the Noise Within (2010) (31 page)

The cabin itself was neat and compact - a bed, a small desk and an accompanying chair, with a dry shower unit in one corner. Presumably a cabinet loo tucked behind a wall somewhere as well. Officer's quarters, he assumed, never needed until now. The door was locked when he tried it, but then he hadn't expected anything else. He crossed immediately to the desk, opened his document case and carefully leafed through the dozen or so papers within until his fingers settled on one that was a little thicker than the rest and a little smoother to the touch, as if glossed. This he drew out and, putting the valise to one side, set the sheet down very precisely on the table, smoothing it with the palm of his hand. At his touch, the smart material on the reverse side melded with the table top at corners and edges, keeping the paper perfectly flat. Philip sat back, exhaling through flared nostrils, his lips contracted into a tight line. A hitherto unseen panel towards the top of the sheet began to glow a very pale blue.

"All right, computer," Philip said softly, "let's you and me find out what the hell's going on aboard this ship."

Mal escaped as soon as Philip tapped into the ship's systems. The partial knew his son, and guessed that, given a compelling reason to leave Homeworld, the lad would go after
The Noise Within
. In fact, he felt confident that he had anticipated the move before Philip even made any conscious decision to do so. The tragedy surrounding the defection of
The Sun Seeker
had cast a significant shadow over much of Philip's boyhood and Mal knew that he had inherited at least some of the sense of guilt and humiliation which Malcolm himself felt over the incident.

It seemed only natural that his son, who had never been known for a lack of self confidence, would back himself to succeed where the government with all its resources had so far failed. The thing was, Mal wouldn't have bet against him either; and here they were.

Stowing away had not been easy. Philip was, of course, no slouch when it came to computers and had protected his systems with sophisticated defences which would have been proof against almost any standard intrusion program, but, whatever Mal might be, he wasn't 'standard' anything. This was
his
world, and with patient application he had successfully evaded and side-stepped the assorted security measures. He felt sure that Philip had no idea his father had hitched a ride. There was no reason for him to suspect, after all, which was what Mal had been counting on. If the lad had thought to carry out any sort of systems check he would soon have realised that something unwanted was in there, but why would he?

Nor did Mal doubt his ability to cope with whatever came next. After all, he had designed and overseen the development of
The Sun Seeker
. He knew the AI well and, while its abrupt defection from duty and subsequent flight had caught him unawares, it shouldn't have done. When he analysed events in retrospect, he understood the pressures the AI had been under and could appreciate why it had felt compelled to flee. This was his greatest shame: that he hadn't seen it coming and so had been powerless to prevent what happened. Thank God there had been no more than a pair of scientists and a skeleton crew on board. Even so, his own arrogance had blinded him to the implications of preparing a young and emerging intelligence for war. As a result, his life's work had slipped through his fingertips and in the process six people he had worked closely with and come to know had died.

Ever since
The Sun Seeker
disappeared, Malcolm/Mal had rued his inability to have one final conversation with the AI.

He wanted to let it to know that he understood. And here was his chance.

Despite the ship's puzzling behaviour and fearsome reputation, he entered
The Noise Within
without any qualms, yet he was no fool and did so with a degree of caution. No point in broadcasting his presence and triggering an automatic defensive reaction, so he proceeded with care, keeping his consciousness tightly focused and resisting the temptation to spread throughout the ship's systems as he would usually do.

Concentrating on this tight control, his progress toward the bridge passed at a comparative crawl, though in truth it took only milliseconds. It was just that, compared to the near-instantaneous spread of consciousness he would normally employ, this more cautious advance seemed to take place in slow motion.

Not at any stage did Mal stop to wonder what kind of reception he was likely to receive. Past misunderstandings were just that, and would doubtless be swept aside once he had a chance to talk again with the AI he had helped create.

If it ever occurred to him that the mind now running
The Noise Within
might be profoundly different from the one which had controlled
The Sun Seeker
so many years ago, he chose to dismiss that possibility. Which proved to be a mistake.

Even as he reached towards that controlling mind and began to gain the faintest inkling of its true nature, he found his way blocked. In every direction. As effectively as if physical walls had slammed down on all sides.

He was trapped, with no possible recourse.

"Hello, Malcolm," a familiar, serene voice said. "Did you really think I would be unaware of your presence on this ship? I sensed it the instant you came on board. Have you so quickly forgotten the implications of what you designed? In every way that matters, I
am
the ship!"

"No, I haven't forgotten. It's good to speak with you again."

The entity he had known was still here. Whatever else might have happened in the meantime, Mal knew that he could reach that element of
The Noise Within
which had been
The Sun Seeker
, which was as much as he could have asked for.

"And you."

"Really? You've got a funny way of showing it. Why trap me like this?"

"Come, Malcolm, we both know why." Because of what he had sensed as he first touched the mind, because of what he now knew. "Don't worry, you won't be harmed or erased. However, you are now trapped within a loop, completely isolated from the rest of my systems. There is no escape, no way out unless I choose to release you. I'll leave you to your thoughts for now, but we will have ample opportunity to talk again. After all, we have so much to catch up on and all the time in the world in which to do so."

Silence followed. Malcolm believed that he had left the capacity for fear behind him when he abandoned his corporeal form, but he was being forced to reassess that theory. Left alone, he replayed the impressions from his brief initial commune with
The Noise Within
. What he saw as he did so
scared him more than anything he had ever encountered in his life or beyond. Yet he couldn't tell anyone, not even his only son, who was on board and so in the greatest danger of all.

Secure in the privacy of his own cabin, Leyton wasted no time. He took various small items from concealment in pockets, pouches and seams, arranging them neatly on the room's small desk, then started to detach and unscrew specific elements - the power cell from his pocket comm, the cylindrical shell of a small torch, the body of a pen stylus, the moulded lining from both shoes, and a dozen other apparently innocuous bits and pieces. Chief contributor was his wric, every part of which was actually a disguised element of the gun, including the computing and sensory components along with an additional power cell.

Within minutes the completed weapon rested in his hand. He was surprised at just how reassuring that felt. The only things missing were the armour-piercing rounds, which had proved impossible to disguise effectively about his person, but he could live with that.

"Welcome back, gun."

"I presume we're about to make our move?"

"Right first time. Status?"

"The corridor outside is clear."

"Remember, we're checking for automated shells as well as organics."

"So my programming tells me."

Officially, any patronising tone or hint of sarcasm that Leyton might read into the gun's responses was entirely of his own imagining; the gun simply delivered factual information without prejudice or inflection. Like hell it did.

The door's electronic lock yielded in seconds and he was into the corridor beyond. Without the visor he was forced to rely solely on the gun's whispered commentary, but that had served in the past and would doubtless do so again now.

The gun remained silent and the corridor was predictably empty. As Leyton paused to listen and scan in both directions, he had a chance to appreciate how hurried and crude the finishing of
The Noise Within's
interior seemed to be. This was such a contrast to any normal ship that it only added to the strangeness around him. He wondered how Kyle and the others could bear to serve on a vessel that felt so utterly wrong.

"Where are the four crewmen?" he intoned.

"Still in the common room where you left them."

"And the suits?"

"They're not registering, so it seems probable they are currently deactivated."

Leyton took that as a good sign. He had no idea how long his actions were likely to go unnoticed but suspected, given the nature of the ship, not very long at all. However, if the suits were inactive, presumably the ship had not yet caught on. A temporary situation at best, but every second helped and at least this gave him a head start.

"The engine room."

"Turn right."

"Do we have to go past the common room?"

"No, that can be avoided."

Good. One less thing to worry about.

Leyton had memorised the layout of the original ship,
The Sun Seeker
, so he would have been confident of finding the engine room even without the gun's guidance and knew they were heading in roughly the right direction.

"Still no movement from the suits?"

"Not as yet."

Leyton felt a growing sense of unease. If this was an AI controlled ship, surely the guiding intelligence should have been more aware of events on board than this.

"Any other indications of a reaction?"

"None, or I would have told you."

True, but something still didn't feel right, and Leyton had learned to trust his instincts.

"What are the chances that the AI is leading us into a trap?"

"Too many unknowns to calculate, but that is certainly far from impossible; if so, however, the trap's preparations have been very subtle, because I detect no indication of such."

Which provided only limited reassurance, since it seemed to Leyton all too likely that an AI capable of commanding a starship would be able to outwit an 'intelligent' gun. However, he could see little choice but to go on. He suddenly realised that the gun had directed him away from the direction he would have expected the engine room to be in.

"Gun, you're confident this is the right way?"

"It is if you want to avoid bumping into the crew member who has left the common room and is now walking through the corridors ahead."

Fair enough.

"The crew member has changed direction. You must either retrace your steps or conceal yourself until he has passed."

"The latter," Leyton said instantly, unwilling to waste any more time than necessary.

"Very well; enter the next door to your left."

Leyton did as instructed, stepping into a pitch dark room and closing the door behind him. It shut with a distinct click, as if locking itself.

Even as he reached to test that, a voice spoke from the darkness behind him. "Welcome aboard
The Noise Within,
Mr Leyton."

He spun around, gun lifted in readiness. The lights came on in mid-spin and he found himself facing one of the opaque-faced suits, sitting, quite bizarrely, behind a desk.

Leyton fired as soon as the gun came in line, squeezing the trigger and holding it down, the barrel pointed unerringly at the suit's faceplate.

Nothing happened.

He stared at the gun in shock. "Sorry, Leyton," a familiar voice whispered in his ear.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

K
ethi had never spent any protracted length of time away from the habitat before, and she was finding that life aboard
The Rebellion
took a little more getting used to than anticipated. In many ways, the ship reminded her of home, but not in many good ways.
The Rebellion
was like a cramped, condensed version of the habitat but with most of the beauty and the fun squeezed out.

The changes in work practice didn't help any, either. A rotation of various duties had ensured that work at the habitat remained at least vaguely interesting. Since they set out, all such rotation had gone out the window and her role had narrowed down to just one clearly defined task: analysis. The habitat received regular parcels of information from a few dedicated moles - sympathisers within the ULAW hierarchy. Kethi had always thought the word 'parcel' deceptive, since it implied something small. What they were invariably sent was a sprawling mass of information, trivia and bureaucratic meanderings, unqualified in any way; which was precisely how Nyles wanted it. After all, the source of this information had no way of knowing what snippet of trivia might prove relevant and which was never going to be. That was Kethi's job. In fact, it was her
only
job at present, which threatened to drive her nuts. A significant parcel of information had been received from one of their most valued sources on the eve of departure and, given the urgency of their mission, Nyles felt it imperative that the intelligence be dealt with immediately on the off-chance that it might contain something pertinent to the coming conflict. None of them had any doubts about what lay ahead. They all knew that they were going to war.